


Double Lives

by darkling2222



Category: Atomic Blonde (2017)
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Romance, hurt comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2018-12-18 12:01:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11873940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkling2222/pseuds/darkling2222
Summary: Nothing makes us so lonely as our secrets and David and Lorraine are no exception.





	1. 99 Luftballons

**Author's Note:**

> The quote in the summary is from Paul Tournier.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to meet the OC, her name is Caroline

“You want a pair of jeans? Help yourself.” David asks teasingly. He slouches down on the couch, amidst the boxes and boxes of Levi jeans and Jack Daniels. Lorraine looks over the nearby bookshelf with apparent disinterest but she reads the titles carefully. You can tell a lot about a person by what they read and she’s not at all surprised to see a worn copy of Machiavelli on David’s shelf. 

“Is there any news about Bakhtin?” She’s all business but he pulls out a newspaper, barely listening.

“There’s no news on the circuit, we just have to wait till he surfaces.” Lorraine is about to answer with something cutting but before she can a voice comes singing from the next room. The sound is in odd contrast to the sharp tension between the pair.

_“99 Luftballons. Auf ihrem Weg zum Horizont”_

“Caroline!” David yells in the direction of the singing and the voice suddenly quiets. His shout is followed by a few footsteps before a young girl appears smiling in the doorway.

“Ja?” Her voice has a friendly brightness in answer to David but when she sees Lorraine, she shrinks slightly back. It’s barely half a footstep but it’s enough to keep herself half-hide in the doorway, shy. She is tall and thin but she isn't nearly as skantily clad or disease ridden as Lorraine would have expected of any girls in David's apartment.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt." The girl finishes, now speaking in formal German, quiet and respectful to Lorraine. David claps his hands together with a smile, gesturing for the girl to come closer.

"Gotta use English, doll, Lorraine here is a Brit." he lolls his head back to the blonde to make introductions. "Lorraine, this is Caroline. Caroline this is Lorraine Broughton."

Caroline steps out of the doorway finally and Lorraine can get a good look at her now. Her dress is dark flannel, faded and down below her knees. She's dressed for the bitter cold of the city and little else, there's no fashion consideration behind her attire. She has all the sober practicality of a farm girl with her dark hair tied back in a simple braid. Lorraine can guess that she came into the city for work. Caroline nods, unsmiling, to the older woman.

"Hello, Ms. Broughton." Her voice is heavily accented but clear. Caroline looks Lorraine over with the same analytical gaze that Lorraine looks at her. However, whatever conclusions she draws, she keeps to herself, expression perfectly non-partial.

"Hello." Lorraine answers. Caroline checks her wrist and steps to the coat rack to grab an overlarge trench coat. 

"I should be going, David." She says, stepping back to where he's sprawled messily across the couch. She leans down to softly kisses his temple with a familiarity of habit that Lorraine recognizes as nearly familial. This action scews Lorraine's perception of this relationship. Could this dower girl be David's wife or sister? It seems impossible that this crude, dirty Machivellian sprawled in front of her could have any connection to this prim farm girl beyond a business relationship.

"Goodbye. I should be around tomorrow at the same time."

"See ya, Cari." David waves to her distractedly, preoccupied with looking over the morning newspaper.

"It was nice meeting you Miss. Broughton." She says her goodbyes to Lorraine with a little dip of her head and knees that's almost like a curtsy. 

"It was nice to meet you as well." the blonde answers with a clinical nod. The young woman stands in the front doorway a moment to adjust her purse and tie a scarf patterned cheerfully with yellow flowers around her head before she steps into the cold street. Lorraine watches her leave and only turns back to David when the door shuts completely. 

"Your sister?" she asks conversationally. It seems more likely that they are connected by an accident of genetics then by a conscious choice by either of the pair. David laughs.

"No, Caroline is just my cleaning girl." 

"She seems quite fond of you."

"Isn't everyone quite fond of me?" he quips, strategically offering no more information. It's a danger to offer even the most mundane personal information to another spy, even to an allied spy. Lorraine offers him a flat smile that is only perfunctory. 

"Of course." 

"Her only weakness as a house cleaner is that she doesn't put out." He cackles at his own joke, winking lewdly at her. "Get your coat, love, we're going on a walk." They head out to talk and Lorraine files Caroline in her mind as a potential lead to be investigated, a way to better understand the game that Percival is playing.


	2. An Interlude with Delphine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing makes us so lonely as our secrets and David is no exception.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love these two!

Lorraine goes to see Delphine later that evening and the French girl is girlishly excited to see her. Her smile is bright and uninhibited, almost painfully sweet when she lays eyes on Lorraine as her apartment door swings opens. “Hello, my darling.” She purrs, kissing Lorraine in the doorway before pulling her inside. Her lips are soft and warm against the chill of Lorraine’s skin, marble cold from the freezing wind of Berlin’s winter. Delphine’s clever fingers undo Lorraine’s coat, black cashmere falling carelessly to the floor as Lorraine deepens her kiss, tongue against tongue.

“Hello.” Lorraine breaks the kiss for a moment to answer. Any change in her is an exercise in subtlety, the slightest shifting of glacial ice in answer to Delphine’s vibrant warmth. “How was your day?” she asks conversationally, as if she were sitting down for tea instead of unclipping Delphine’s garters and pulling down her stockings. 

“Fine.” Delphine tries to play the game of polite conversation but any more of her words are cut off by a moan as Lorraine presses her back on the bed, hand between her legs. The older blonde pulls up the French girls overlarge sweater, kissing and sucking her dark rose nipples and Delphine squirms underneath her, moaning and blushing. 

“Please…” Her next words slip into a flurry of French that Lorraine is too distracted to translate as she kisses down Delphine’s breasts and down her stomach. Her hand slips between her own legs, wet and hot at seeing Delphine under her. She feels the younger woman’s leg shake ever so slightly as she kisses the most sensitive curve of her inner thigh. And then suddenly Lorraine’s tongue is on Delphine’s pussy, licking and sucking her clit. She cries out at the touch, back arching, fingers clutching at the sheets. Lorraine is scandalously well practiced, this could easily be counted amongst her arsenal of professional skills although it’s a bit too personal to put in a dossier. She can taste Delphine getting wetter and she tastes raspberry sweet. Lorraine would never admit it but this is as much pleasure as it is business, the taste and the moans of this French operative are a lovely distraction. Delphine moans, louder now, her hips pressing desperately closer to Lorraine’s mouth and she can feel her clit throbbing under her tongue. Lorraine sucks her clit hard, tongue flickering over the sensitive spot and Delphine cries out. She cums hard and Lorraine cums too, the other girls pleasure is enough to get her off with a soft sigh. Even in such a vulnerable moment, Lorraine keeps her reactions carefully understated, always in control. Delphine pants and moans, collapsing back onto the bed. Lorraine she rolls back onto the bed beside Delphine and the younger girl snuggles close to her, always affectionate.

They lay together silently for a long time, listening to the song of each other’s breathing and Delphine dozes. Another professional quirk she’s built up after years of spying, Lorraine never sleeps when there’s someone else in the room if she can help it. 

Lorraine lazily thumbs through a stack of water colors that are strewn out messily beside the bed. They’re character studies or women in cafes and delicate springtime flowers that are too bright for the winter drab. There is one in the group that catches her eye, it’s entirely monochromatic in stark black and white. It’s of a young woman, dressed in black from her neck to her shoes. The color stretches up in patterns across her face and blurs with the dark of her hair, most of her features are hidden in shadow except for one defiant eye that looks to the viewer. Delphine catches her looking and smiles, snuggling up closer. 

“That’s Raksha.” She explains sleepily. 

“Raksha?” Lorraine doesn’t recognize the name but it sounds distinctly non-German. 

“Yeah, she’s kind of a local legend around here. She’s really active in the resistance. She’s friends with that man you know, David.” Lorraine laughs a little.

“I’m surprised that David has any friends at all.” She studies the picture again, “Is this an artistic interpretation or does she really dress like this?” it’s meant to be another joke but Delphine nods seriously, yawning before she continues.

“Yes, she’s always in disguise. No one knows who she is but if you’re lucky maybe you’ll see her while you’re here.” Delphine nuzzles closer, gifting Lorraine a butterfly soft kiss across her pale collarbone before she shutting her eyes again. 

Lorraine lets her doze for a long while until Delphine falls asleep. She untangles herself from her embrace and goes back to her hotel.


	3. Some Real Spying for Once

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lorraine does her job in this chapter

Caroline steps out of David’s apartment mid-afternoon with a pale pink scarf tied around her head and a wicker basket under her arm as she heads up the street. Lorraine had been watching the house for hours for just this moment and she walks briskly until she’s just a few paces behind Caroline before she calls out. 

“Caroline?” Lorraine keeps her voice friendly and a little surprised, as if she had just happened to run into the other woman accidently on the street. Caroline turns and smiles politely when she recognizes Lorraine and waits as Lorraine trots up to her.

“Hello.” Her seriousness has not softened since their last meeting. Lorraine had just come from investigating Gascoigne’s apartment and Caroline was her next lead. 

“What a surprise it is to run into you! I had actually been hoping to speak with you.” Lorraine answers warmly, falling into walking side by side with Caroline. 

“Oh? I’m not sure what you would want to speak with me about, Ms. Broughton…” Caroline asks and it’s clear that under her quiet deference, she’s quite uncomfortable.

“Caroline, your collar is off.” Lorraine says ignoring her question and pausing on the sideway to adjust the other girls coat. She carefully slips a small listening device under the collar. 

“Thank you.”

“I was just curious about what it’s like working for David.” Lorraine continues as they begin to walk down the street again again. 

"Mr. Percival a good employer and he pays a good wage." This answer is in marked contrast to the intimacy they showed earlier in the day, the most bare-bones answer possible. 

"Does he treat you well?"

"Yes, very well, miss." 

"How did you meet him?"

"We run in similar circles." Lorraine smiles faintly. This little farm girl hardly looks like she would ever associate with a part time spy and full-time smuggler.

"You don't seem much like a punk." Caroline answers with her own ghost of a smile. Neither of them particularly trust the other. Caroline is instinctively distrustful of such a clean-cut foreigner and Lorraine doesn't trust anyone. The dark-haired girl thinks over her next words for a long moment.

"There are lots of different people in the world." This is a truth but a carefully chosen one. She can't be certain of this blonde stranger who had come sniffing around in everyone's affairs and she's very careful. "I should be getting on, I have errands to run uptown." She continues, trying to get out of this situation as fast as she can.

"Thank you for speaking with me." Caroline nods solemnly in answer and turns to cross to the opposite street. Lorraine watches her walk halfway down the street before she starts to follow. She’s careful to stay a few streets back and her hood up to hide her platinum hair. Caroline walks down the dirty street with the wicker basket on her arm and scarf around her head and she steps into a dower office building. Lorraine comes closer, staying hidden behind a staircase as she reads the sign over the building's double door: The Ministry of State Security. Her eyes widen, David’s cleaning girl is working for the Stasi? There's no way that David wouldn't know that a mole was working in his own house. He might be a skeeze but he's the head of station after all, he's at least a halfway decent spy. It seems unlikely that he would be unaware of her involvement with the East German Secret Service. Lorraine can see Caroline through the large windows as she walks up the stairs of the building and enters the third floor, her pink scarf an easy to track spot of color.

At this close a range, Lorraine can listen to the bug simultaneously and it only takes her a moment to dig her headphones out of her bag. Inside the building at first is just sound of clattering typewriters and yelling, a mess of secretaries and low-level workers all rushing around. Lorraine can still see the pink scarf as its owner shyly tries to stay out of everyone's way.

"Ay, Caroline!" A man's voice crackles through the headphones. The scarf turns to look up at the voice and she waves before a man in the suit that walks up to her. Even from this distance, Lorraine can tell that he's a bear of a man who looks a good deal more like an underground boxer than a member of the secret police. He embraces her in a big hug that takes her off the ground and the bug crinkles with static at the contact. "Caroline! Long time no see!"

"Hello, Ivan." her voice is warm and Lorraine can hear the smile in her voice as Caroline takes off her scarf and tucks it into her purse. "It's so nice to see you."

"Come sit." They move out of the view of the window and it’s lucky that they’re still in range of the bug. Lorraine can easily imagine the rest of the scene though, the younger girl is probably being led back to a sad, grey walled office. She must have been seated next to the door because Lorraine can still hear the noise of the larger room in one year.

"I'm sorry it's been so long since I've visited."

"Aw, I know you've been busy. How is that man you're working for? Still treating you okay?" The man sounds paternal, not at all like the debriefings Lorraine was familiar with in London.

"Oh yes, David is a lovely man." Lorraine can't help but snort at this, the last word she would use to describe David was lovely. "I brought some cookies along by the way." Lorraine hears another scuffle of Caroline presumably getting the cookies out of her basket.

"You're too good to me!" He laughs heartily, "Thank you."

"How are Helen and the kids doing? I haven't had a chance to see much of anyone lately." Caroline continues conversationally. The noise in the background garbles some of the dialogue. There appears to be a man speaking very loudly and angrily on the phone from, Lorraine guesses, in the office next to this one. _These damn kids are rioting! We don't have the manpower to contain them!_

"She's doing great, the kids are doing great. They're doing well with the rationing."

"I think we're all trying our best with the rationing but I have faith in the wisdom of our leaders." Her tone is sure and unwavering and Lorraine has trouble being able to tell if she's lying or not. The man yells again. _We can't authorize overtime after tomorrow's protest and they get even crazier at night! There will be no one watching the square!_ This talk of dissolution of order that blusters in the background is in sharp contrast to her sureness of faith. They continue to make small talk about their families and lives for the better part of the hour. There's no talk of espionage or foreign powers. Over time the man yelling seems to resign to the square being unguarded, _maybe we'll be lucky and they'll behave properly tonight... yeah, we can hope..._

"I should be going, Ivan, it was lovely to see you though. Tell Helen and the babies I said hello." The background noise intensifies as they walk back into the louder open room, typewriters clacking.

"Thanks for coming by Cari, we'll have to plan dinner sometime."

She steps back onto the street but she doesn't turn back to go back home so Lorraine continues to track the pink scarf bobbing down the street. She stops at the grocery store to pick up a few things and Lorraine almost gives up on following her but she doesn't have any leads and maybe something could still come of this. her hopes pick up as she follows Caroline down to a large abandoned building covered in graffiti. The brunette pounds hard on a large metal door and after a few moments a punk girl with electric green hair comes to the door.

"Hello, Jen." greets Caroline pleasantly.

"Hey, what's up?" Jen's voice is gruff and her cadence is off on the recording and it takes Lorraine a moment to realize that she is loudly chewing gum which sounds distinctly odd on the film. "Come on in." They step inside and the door swings shut with a clang. "Have you seen Peter yet?"

"No, should I have?" Caroline sounds quizzical, "Is he alright?"

"He's in pretty bad shape. He ran into Bremovitch." Her voice is grim, just saying that he ran into Bremovitch is enough to explain the severity of the situation. "He's back here. I had been meaning to call you before but I think we got him patched up pretty good." Lorraine can hear their footsteps echo off the concrete and another door swinging open. 

"Oh..." It's not hard to imagine the injuries, Lorraine has seen Bremovitch's work before. He likes to do the beatings himself and he takes great pride in his work.

“Hey.” It’s a man’s voice now, presumably Peter. 

"Bremovitch really did a number on you." Caroline evens her voice to professional friendliness.

"Yeah, and worst then that he broke my tape player." The answer is a weak croak but there's wry humor in the mourning of his tape player.

"Haha, well, I'm sure it won't be hard to get a new one once you're back on your feet. Do you mind if I look you over?" Lorraine assumes he nods but, of course, she can't tell exactly what they're doing from this point. There is some scuffling noises through the bug and the occasional winces of pain from Peter and Lorraine surmises that Caroline is checking his wounds. Caroline asks questions and gives diagnoses that paint a more vivid and disturbing picture of Peter’s injuries, like _have you been coughing up any blood? Have any of these cuts been discharging pus? It looks like you might have broken your eye socket._

"How do you know any of this?" Peter sounds a little distrustful of her knowledge and Lorraine would be to in his situation. Caroline isn't exactly a medical professional.

"My mother was a nurse in the war." She answers but any further explanation is suddenly cut off by a cry of pain from Peter, "Sorry, sorry. You have some broken ribs that need to be set." Carline apologizes and then sighs "I didn't bring my supplies today... Do you have anything for the pain?" Lorrain doesn't hear anything but Caroline continues with, "I'll ask Mr. Percival if he can find anything for you. Try and stay in bed, if you have any chest pain or shortness of breath, that means you have internal bleeding and you'll need to go to the hospital, alright?"

"Okay."

"Otherwise it looks like you're on the mend." Lorraine can hear a reassuring smile in her voice, "Just try and get some sleep for now. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon to fix your ribs." They talk a few minutes more and Caroline leaves him another package of cookies they say their goodbyes. Lorraine hears the click of the door and Jen’s bubble gum garbed voice.

"Is he going to be alright?" Jen sounds worried but trying not to show it.

"Yeah, I'm sure it hurts like the dickens but I think he'll be fine. Do you know why on earth Bremovitch did this?" Jen snorts

"He wanted to know the whereabouts of some old guy and he beat Peter to shit to scare the others into talking. Nobody snitched though, any enemy of the Stasi is a friend of ours." There's the clicking of the lighter and an exhale of smoke after a moment which Lorraine assumes is from Jen. It’s hard to imagine Caroline smoking.

"I feel like I've been so out of the loop. Is there anything else going on?" Other than the sidebar to see Peter, their conversation appears to be a functionally identical visit to the one at the Stasi office. They chat about their families and local gossip and Caroline gives her another container of cookies. 

"There’s a party tomorrow. I mean, I know that’s not your cup of tea but could you pass the message on to Percival?”

“Sure, will do.” They say their goodbyes and Caroline heads back home. Lorraine listens to the rest of the recordings in the comfort of her hotel room but nothing much comes of it. Caroline tells David about seeing Lorraine and passes on the message from Jen as she makes dinner.

“How was your day?” Lorraine can hear oil sizzling through the wire as Caroline speaks, a warm smile in her voice. Their relationship is puzzling, they seem significantly closer than most cleaning girls and their employers but she can’t see how they managed to get that way. 

“Ay, nothing much to report. That damn Bremovitch is fucking up my supply but that’s nothing new.”

“He beat poor Peter within an inch of his life, you wouldn’t believe his injuries.” David hums absently in answer. The rest of the evening goes like this, mundane, domestic small talk. Lorraine notes that when it’s just the two of them, David seems nearly normal. But on a whole, it’s disinteresting, no new information that Lorraine finds useful. 

Overall, a disappointing afternoon and she heads out the other way to investigate Gascoigne’s apartment.


	4. Trouble in Paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a busy day for Lorraine

The exchange in Gascoigne’s apartment is infuriating, it was supposed to be a simple errand but it ended in a nearly deadly exchange with Berlin police. And more than that, it was a hassle. This would have been easier if Caroline had told her anything about David. She might have been able to anticipate this kind of action from him if she had known more. She opens the door of her hotel suite and lounging on the couch is another hassle, although a slightly more welcomed one.

“Hello.” Delphine greets brightly, clearly pleased as punch at the ingenious of her surprise visit. 

“What are you doing here, Delphine?”

“I thought we could go dancing tonight.” She stands, pink rhinestone dress sparkling and swishing at her hips. “I thought it might be fun to have a real date.” Loraine just looks at her, she didn’t come to this god-forsaken city for romance and she certainly doesn’t have time for it. 

“I don’t have time.” Delphine’s face falls into a pout. 

“Fine.” Her voice is suddenly frigid as she sits back on the couch, “I guess I got dressed up for nothing.” Lorraine breathes in deeply, collecting herself to smooth over this further frustration. 

“I’m sorry, I’ve just had a crazy day.” Lorraine kneels next to her to kiss the other girl’s cheek, speaking as if she’d just had a rough day at the office instead of nearly being murdered by fascists “How about we go out tomorrow? I heard about a great underground party. Delphine remains stone-faced as Lorraine kisses her neck and Delphine laughs finally, relenting. 

“You promise?” Delphine asks, serious again, as she looks into Lorraine’s icy blue eyes. 

“I promise.” Lorraine smiles, “I’d invite you to stay but it’s late and as I said things have been crazy.” Delphine smiles again, pressing a hand to Lorraine’s pale cheek.

“Poor thing, you do look tired.” The French girl kisses her forehead affectionately, “Alright, I’ll meet you here tomorrow but this better be a good party.” She points a finger with joking accusation as she stands to leave. 

“See you tomorrow.” Lorraine guides her out of the door with a parting kiss but it’s not particularly savored. Lorraine hasn’t had time to sleep properly in nearly three days and she needs Delphine out. The moment Delphine is out of the house, Lorraine collapses onto the bed and is asleep before her head hits the pillow.


	5. Black Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raksha makes her appearance

The next day David sits at the bar, he never misses a chance to hark his wares and search for information so when Caroline told him there was going to be a party, he’s sure to go. He sees a figure, a woman, out of the corner of his eye that he doesn’t recognize but when he turns to look and maybe try his luck with the newcomer, but unfortunately, it’s Lorraine. She has appeared uninvited with that little French operative on her arm. Her appearance is a surprise for David but he doesn’t think much of it. Her showing off the knowledge that she shouldn’t have is a power play, an act of dominance that he’s come to expect from fellow spies. 

“Hello Lorraine.” He greets, friendly and unruffled by her presence. Delphine waves to someone off in the distance before turning back to Lorraine for a moment.

“I’ll leave you to David.” She whispers before darting off to her friends. 

“Hello David. I met your friends at Gascoigne’s apartment yesterday.” She answers, words vague but pointed. She doesn’t speak openly about the police that David had called on her at the apartment but her tone makes them clear. He just smiles like it was just an honest mistake. 

“Sorry about that.” 

The door slams shut and there’s a wave of murmuring over the throbbing music as a woman steps inside. She walks toward the group of partiers and they divide to give her space as if she had cut the crowd with a knife. The young punks quiet their talk to hushed murmuring, Raksha, Raksha is here.

“Ahhhh, Raksha has arrived.” he says, catching Lorraine’s attention with a wave of his hand. David seems excited at the anticipation of her arrival but Lorraine isn’t sure what to expect from raven-black Raksha.

Lorraine had looked into the name after Delphine had shown her the drawing, any major players in the Berlin underground could be an asset or an enemy. It turns out that indeed, Raksha is a pillar of the underground who had made enough of an impact that the name had found its way into some of Lorraine’s official files. She is wanted in Berlin and in three precincts outside of the city, that's what’s known. But the legends of her are what had parted the crowd. The stories say that she had burned flags in the square in front of American cameras, had spray painted the Stasi office through a haze of tear gas, had spit into the helmets of police as she stared down the barrel of their guns. The more outlandish legends blur into obvious fiction and these are the stories that David loves to tell. His favorite rumor he wrote himself, that she had blown a ranking official in the state hall and had nearly bitten his cock clean off in the name of liberty. 

But, legends aside, they know for certain that she had never been caught and no one knew her true name. Even to the Stasi, she is known only as Raksha, the demon.

In person, the legend stands nearly six feet tall with piercing eyes that seem to cut your soul. Lorraine feels the bite of her gaze for a long moment as the woman looks her over appraisingly. There’s a puzzling familiarity in her sharply analytical gaze. 

Raksha walks through the crowd as if the crowd wasn’t there, her heeled boots clicking on the concrete. Her features are obscured by abstract patterns of dark makeup and her hair tied tightly back. For the moment, she pays the crowd no mind, instead moving toward David. 

"Hello David." she offers him a curve of cherry black lips and he smiles back.

"Long time no see, Rakshi." the mispronunciation of her name is a cheeky nickname. She laughs, leaning over to kiss his temple, the touch of her lips leaving a smudge of color on his skin. The action brings another unsettling sense of déjà vu washing over Lorraine but she can’t place it. Raksha sits at his side and turns to address the crowd.

"I have been gone a long time. What's the good word?" a flurry of voices yell to answer her, she is a legend to them and they all fight for favor. The crowd gathers close, the tension of revolution already building at the sight of her. She can sense the electricity crackling from the motley kids gathering around and Raksha smiles her wolf smile. She stands again, holding her hand up and they quiet. "Are we still fighting?" Her war cry booms through the abandoned warehouse and the crowd answers but she frowns, they are not loud enough. "Are we still fighting?" This time they answer with a deafening roar and she stands up on the table in front of her.

"That’s right! We are the children of the wall and we will never stop fighting. We will never stop until we are free!" she stokes the dormant ferocity of these kids who have only ever known a boot on their neck. They're gunpowder and she's the spark.

"We will tear out the fascist throat with our teeth." She bares her own white fangs in a growl and the crowd screams back. Her voice burns with hate, burning through the crowd that's becoming a mob. David is at her side, and he's the loudest voice, high off the electric energy that she generates and conducts almost instantaneously. Not that he has any strong feelings about liberty, he's just along for the ride. She punches one arm in the air, “Tonight the square is unguarded!” she calls, jumping from the table and the crowd roars in answer. She leads the crowd out of the building and onto the street. Lorraine’s ears perk up at this, somewhere in her hours and hours of audio, it had come up before that the square would be unguarded but she can’t place where. She’s broken out of her reverie by the noise of David barking orders to the bartender to watch the liquor. He scrambles to follow the black-clad woman, a coyote nipping at the heels of a wolf. The mob streams from the building and out onto the street, Lorraine follows on the fringe of the group, picking through the crowd for any familiar faces. She’s lost Delphine but she knows that the younger girl is scrappy enough to handle a mob and she’s not worried. Lorraine can hear the shattering of glass as combat boots make connection with storefronts, the evening accelerates fast into a riot.

Lorraine can hear David laughing as he runs, high on adrenaline but Raksha is silent and steely calm at the front of the pack. She is a blur of dark in the darkness, flying down the street on the way to the empty square to break and burn, desecrating the symbols of fascism. Fires seem to break out by their own volition, lapping at the dead grass and the trash on the street. Lorraine is careful to stay out of the way as the group cries out in fury, mob roaring all at once like a living thing. Kids climb up on the statues of war heroes on horses, shaking them free of their foundation until they fall. 

Raksha yells direction, painted face lit by the sporadic fire, teeth glistening in the light. A vengeful goddess with acrid black smoke billowing around her. Suddenly, inexplicably, it all snaps into place in that moment. Why she would know to be at this party, why she would know that the square would be unguarded, the kiss for David. It’s Caroline, Caroline is Raksha and Raksha is Caroline. The little mother and the wolf, a duality of being that could live only in the madness of Berlin. 

The black-clad girl turns sharply, darting back into the crowd. In the chaos, it only takes Lorraine a moment to lose track of Raksha, of Caroline. The woman likely fades back into the shadows of an alley and out of the riot as the police sirens scream closer. David has similar instincts and is gone before Lorraine can follow and she decides to cut her loses as well, pulling her collar up and disappearing from the fray. 

As she walks back to her hotel room, she thinks over this new information. The discovery of Raksha is compelling but not yet relevant. It doesn’t matter to the mission that Lorraine knows Caroline’s identity and it may never become relevant. In a perfect world, Lorraine would tap the other woman’s surely extensive access to intel but it would be nearly impossible to convince her to divulge any of it. At best it would be leverage against David and at present, even that is of little use. She stores the information away for later but she doesn’t dwell on Caroline.


	6. A Bit of Background

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who is who and who knows what: explained

“Someone’s getting home late.” David teases, playing the part of the overprotective father, as Caroline steps into the house. He’s looking over files and audio recordings at the table while the little TV blares across from him. He had beaten her back and had settled in as if he hadn’t left the house all evening. 

“Do you mind if I stay over tonight? I’m a little scared to walk back alone…” she gestures to the lingering sounds of unrest outside.

“Ah, sure. It really getting crazy out there.” He turns up the TV a little, “Those hoodlums.” He shakes his fist into the air jokingly and she laughs softly in answer. He looks over at her out of the corner of his eye, appraising. it’s hard to believe that this quiet girl with her gentle affect and sensible shoes had been white-fanged Raksha barely an hour before. 

Lorraine isn’t the first person to discover Raksha’s name. David had known for years. 

Caroline had shown up at the doorstep of the resistance with nothing but a bag of clothes and a Walkman. She is a child of the countryside in her long skirt and scarves and at first none of them trust her. Caroline wears no markers of rebellion and there's no way to tell that she's not a narc. But she is earnest about helping them and apparently destitute and they all think that the Stasi would have made more of an effort to conceal an operative. They adopted her cautiously into their numbers.

Most of the kids that lived there had traded their middle class lives for hair dye and rebellion but none of them had thought through the practicalities of living on their own. None of them can cook or clean and most can only barely take care of themselves. But Caroline comes from a childhood of constant domestic labor along with detailed medical knowledge, all underrated but invaluable skills. 

With these skills, she spends a long time contributing to the cause by staving off vitamin deficiencies and keeping everyone in clean socks. It’s good work, things she’s proud to do, these kids need someone to take care of them. And all the while she is learning how the peaceful revolution is coming together, quietly observing the hierarchy of her allies and the bureaucracy of her enemies.

David adopts her later on, or more precisely, she chooses him once she has learned all she can from the punks in the warehouse. It’s not difficult to convince him to take on a housekeeper on the cheap and it only takes a few subtle suggestions. He’s a great source of information, he’s a spy for the British after all. Beyond all that, she’s fond of him, such a strange lonely creature as he is. He only barely keeps himself together and she does her best to help him. It’s a symbiotic relationship with her two selves, he keeps Raksha in information and Caroline keeps him company. 

David had always known her secret, she practically lived with him after all, it would have been impossible not to know that she has cut herself into two people. She exists in tandem as doe-eyed Caroline in strawberry gingum and nightshade Raksha, daughter of wolves. David loves her for her duality, her many names, this strange shape-shifting creature. She's like him, in a way, a spy without an agency. He hasn't worked for queen and country for years, not really anyway, everything he does is for survival and personal gain. Any real spying, he does is only incidental. She is an agent of loftier aims, fighting for ideals nearly above his understanding. He has spent so long lying and backstabbing and occasionally killing that he can barely understand anything else. 

But she is striving only for as much goodness as she can and she’s shrewd in her means of achieving it. During the day, Caroline deals in material matters, offering human kindness with packages of cookies and a shoulder to cry on all while quietly collecting information for her second life at night. Raksha is a symbol, a vigilante, a figure of literary proportion that exists to tear down the system of oppression that grows up all around them. She has devoted her whole person to kindness and justice and above all freedom. It’s an austere state of being, almost religious in her devotion to the ideals she works tirelessly to cultivate. He almost wishes he knows what had brought her to this, what of her past had brought her to the edge of sainthood, holding an olive branch in one hand and a sword in the other. 

In a way, he trusts because of this more than anything else. She wouldn’t betray him; such an act is the antithesis of her being. She is only kind, there are no other motives. 

David watches her watch TV on the couch across from him for a moment as they settle down into their evening, calm and domestic. They both politely pretending that they don’t know about the involvement of the other. It’s an act of trust, trust that allows them to live their double lives in open secrecy to each other and it strengthens the bond between them. They sit together until midnight strikes and she gets up for bed. 

“Goodnight, David.”

“Goodnight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think traditionally female work is Super undervalued and needs more love. Caroline’s a cool lady and very talented in many fields, they're all of equal importance in her life.


	7. A Quiet Evening In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David is hella unsympathetic but I like him

It’s a few days later when David comes stumbling home from killing Spyglass, his hands shaking as he turns the doorknob. Any other night like this, David would just go get blind drunk and fuck some girl till he can't think anymore but he's so tired. He's tired of killing for the crown, tired of lying and backstabbing. He's as tired of it all as much as he loves it. He loves Berlin but she is a harsh mistress and sometimes it's too much. The blood on his hands is too heavy sometimes and the weight of this sin is exhausting.

He had to shoot that poor bastard, there just hadn’t any other option for Spyglass. In the safe house afterwards, when the news came in, his widow clung to David’s lapels while she sobbed and sobbed. He had to keep up the lie, comforting the women and her little daughter who now has to grow up without a father because of him. 

And on top of all this, he knows Lorraine must be on his tail. She’s a knife-edged creature, proving to be stronger and sharper then he’s imagined her to be and she will need to be taken into account. 

He’s broken out of his thoughts by the sound of a door closing softly as Caroline steps inside the living room and she begins getting her things together to leave. She smiles at him with a little wave as she collects her coat and he smiles back but he almost cringes, he doesn’t deserve any kindness but all the same he can’t bear to be alone.

"Caroline, honey, will you sit with me a minute?" There's a touch of agitation in his tone and he takes nervous drags of his cigarette. As he speaks, she sees him rub his short-shorn hair compulsively. The action an anxious attempt at self-soothing and she can tell by the redness of his skin that if he keeps it up he’s going to rub himself raw.

She does pause a moment before she does anything else, evaluating the situation at hand. He’s always teasing her for sexual favors that she tiredly brushes off with eye rolling irritation but right now he looks honestly troubled. And she knows he would do a lot to get a good lay but expressing genuine vulnerability was not on the list.

"Sure, is there something wrong?" She sits down close to him and he lolls his head against her shoulder with a long sigh. It’s a shy gesture, almost asking permission for further affection. 

"Nothing's wrong, everything's fine." There’s the same quiver of anxious tension present in his voice, despite his words. Caroline pulls him close to her, accepting the offer for contact, gently stroking his sheered hair down. He can’t remember how they came to this closeness, affection is just natural to her. He leans against her and she hums softly for a moment before answering.

"Alright, darling, we'll just sit awhile." She doesn't try to fight him to figure out what's wrong, she’s tried that before and she knows it won’t work. You can’t trick a trickster so instead she just offers what kindness she can. "How about I stay over tonight? You can get a hot shower and some fresh clothes on and we can get some sleep." He shakes his head a little vacantly.

"I don't sleep." he sounds lost and much younger than she'd ever heard him sound.

"In that case, you can get a hot shower and some fresh clothes and we can stay up together." he snorts a laugh and he seems to come back to himself a bit. It's almost hard to believe in these little moments that she is Raksha of the white teeth as much as she is Caroline.

"Alright." he gets up and for once he listens to her instructions. It's usually a struggle to get him to even brush his teeth. To see him behaving is almost more unsettling then when he's not.

After a few minutes, he walks back into the room still rubbing his hair with a towel. But what she notices first is that he's wearing matching two-piece pinstripe pajamas that are so laughably outside of his usual attire that she can't help but giggle. 

"Oh, fuck you, it's the only thing I had clean." He scoffs

"You look very handsome." she teases and he sits down next to her. His hair is still soaking and water drips down onto the sheets. "You're still all wet!" she laughs again. She takes the towel and puts it up around his head and rubbing the water gently off before tossing it to the side of the bed. She gestures him to lay down, his head resting on her shoulder again and they nestle together. "There we go." she coos and Caroline strokes his back, calming. "Poor little thing, you must have had a hard day, just try and sleep now." David sighs, curling up on the bed as she coos and pets over him. For David, it’s so strange to be taken care of, or really, for anyone to care one way or the other about his well-being. She reaches down to softly stroke his cheek and he manages a vacant, ghost of a smile in answer. 

“There we go,” she repeats, a warm upward inflection in her voice in answer to his smile “Just go on to sleep.” This is a moment of calm, of safety, and as artificial as this calm and safety might be, it’s enough for him to sleep nestled against her. David wakes up a few times during the night, he’s too paranoid to sleep undisturbed for too long. They lay curled up against each other and in the murky dark he watches her sleep. She’s soft and warm against him and she is kinder then he deserves. He nuzzles against her again and blurs into unconsciousness.


End file.
